It's as bad as dope; Corliss, sure.

If it once gets a-hold of you, you're a goner.

You'll never shake it.
Look at me! And talk about pipe-dreams; they can't burn a candle 'longside of it." He walked over and kicked one of the fires apart.

Then he lifted the pick, and the steel point drove in and stopped with a metallic clang, as though brought up by solid cement.
"Ain't thawed two inches," he muttered, stooping down and groping with his fingers in the wet muck.

The blades of last year's grass had been burned away, but he managed to gather up and tear away a handful of the roots.
"Hell!" "What's the matter ?" Corliss asked.
"Hell!" he repeated in a passionless way, knocking the dirt-covered roots against the pan.
Corliss went over and stooped to closer inspection.